Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen
A/n: Here's the second chapter. If the third chapter isn't up tomorrow (very possible - I'm about to be swamped at work) then it will either be Friday or Saturday. Anyhow, thanks for reading along and I hope you enjoy!
2) The End and What Came After
There are many ways an end could come. It could come with war. It could come with betrayal. It could come with angry shouts. It could come with ripped scrolls and pointed fingers.
But the end, when it comes, comes with knocking.
For David, the knock comes as he sits in his rooms at night, talking to some of the Burakoemin nobles about the festivities tomorrow. They are all laughing when Tegwen says, "Hush now, I can hear a knocking on the door."
Llew opens it. Even from the other end of the room, David can hear the sobs. His heart sinks. Crying people are by no means his strong point but as his father's representative here, he will need to comfort the sobber.
Llew turns as he ushers in Angharad. David's heart sinks even further but he forces himself to keep his face neutral as he stands and, together with Llew, guides Angharad to his chair. He doesn't say anything, instead allowing the other nobles to coax the story out of her.
He'd known that Angharad had been besotted with this Lars. He'd met Lars, of course, and thought him a nice if somewhat insecure young man. He's not necessarily surprised that their courtship has ended but he is surprised that Lars ended it. And ended it so soon. It's barely been more than two months.
"He kept saying, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I have to do this, I'm sorry," Angharad says through her tears.
Eventually, Llew turns to David. "What are you going to do, Dai?"
Marry Elsa and probably end up ruining her life is on the tip of his tongue.
Marry Elsa and live a miserable life with a woman who doesn't want me, is also there.
Llew sees his hesitation and adds, even quieter, "We need to know why he did it. It doesn't sound like he's fallen out of love, see. There might be something more to it. The King will never stand for it, mind, if it's because she's Burakoemin."
And wouldn't that be just his luck?
"Dai? You alright? You look like-"
"Just worried about Angharad," he says quickly. He steels himself before striding to the door, each step an effort. "Everyone stay here," he says to the room, his voice not quite cracking yet. "I need to speak to the Queen. Just to, er, check on the situation."
For Elsa, the knock is followed by a familiar, cheerful voice saying, "Elsa, Lars is crying in the entrance hall."
She opens the door and looks down at Olaf. "What?"
"Lars is crying." Olaf frowns slightly. "He didn't want a hug. He kept saying he's done something horrible." His frown clears. "We could get him some chocolate."
But Elsa can't speak. Lars. Baron Lars. The Baron Lars who is courting the Burakoemin lady. The one who, unknowingly, has Elsa's future on his shoulders.
"Elsa?"
This is it. She knows it is.
It had to happen tonight? Before-
"Elsa? It's snowing. Ooh, are you gonna turn the hall into an ice rink again?" But when Elsa still doesn't say anything, she feels a twig arm wrap around her leg. "It'll be OK," Olaf says.
Elsa blinks and realises that she is making it snow. She concentrates and reverses it before telling Olaf to lead her to Lars. Olaf chatters as they walk but Elsa doesn't know what she says. Maybe Olaf knows that because he holds her hand all the way down.
Lars is there, as Olaf said, hunched over and crying, hands pawing at his eyes as he weeps. He looks up when he sees Elsa and his eyes widen. She suspects that he didn't think this idea through. The sheer wryness of that thought nearly makes her laugh hysterically because she knows, she just knows, what he's going to say.
"Lord Lars," she says. "May I ask what is troubling you?"
His fists are clenched and his cheeks are red. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb yo-"
"It's OK," Elsa says firmly. "Please, come into the throne room and we can talk."
But he shakes his head. "I can't. Your Majesty, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
And even though she knows, she knows, she says, "It can't be that bad, my Lord."
"It's never that bad," Olaf adds.
"Your Majesty, I…" He breathes out. "I was so grateful when you let me court Lady Angharad. I know it had to be to help relations with Burakoem. And I … she's wonderful. She is."
"My Lord, what-"
"He doesn't approve. He'll disown me, he says."
"Lord Lars, what are you talking about?" she says even though she knows.
He looks her straight in the eye. "My father told me that I am to marry Lady Myry as he originally intended. Or if not her then anyone, anyone at all, as long as they are of Arendelle. He picked Lady Myry to help her lands. If I didn't stop my courtship of Lady Angharad, he said he would disown me. He had the papers drawn up, your Majesty. He was ready to do it. I…"
He breaks down into sobs. It takes all of her concentration and will not to start a blizzard here and now. Beside her, Olaf reaches out and pats Lars' knee. Lars doesn't even flinch.
"My Lord?" she gets out and how does she sound so damn calm?
"I did it," he whispers, looking at his hands. "God help me, I did it. I can't … I can't be disowned – what if the courtship never came to fruition? What could I offer her as a disinherited noble? My wealth on my own is not enough and my father is powerful. She cried and crumpled and I did it. And your relations … I'm sorry, I didn't mean to … my father … I'm sorry. Tell the Prince I'm sorry."
She wants to be mad but he, too, is being forced into a marriage he doesn't want and how can she be angry with him for that?
"It's OK, Lars," she says softly. "I'm sure we can sort something out. Let us speak to your father. Perhaps I can sway him."
But she knows, deep down, that this is no love story.
The knock, for Anna, is firm; accompanied by two loud voices; and wakes her up from her early night. Rubbing her eyes, she staggers to the door. It has to be Elsa, she thinks, except Elsa never knocks like that and doesn't know how to mimic two male voices at the same time.
She opens the door to see David arguing with a guard. For a few seconds, she's too groggy to think anything of it, so she simply watches. Then she comes to her senses and asks them what on earth is going on.
They turn to her, shock written on their faces. David bows at the same time as the guard. Then they both try to look everywhere except at her.
"Alright, spit it out," she says. "What's going on?"
"Your Highness, I told his Highness not to disturb you but he insisted," the guard says in the voice of a man who knows that he is going to be in trouble whatever he says or does next.
"I'm sorry, Princess," David says quietly, his voice somewhat stiff, "but it's important."
"Then why didn't you speak to … Elsa! Where's Elsa? Is she OK? What's wrong?"
But David has his hands up. "I don't know where she is. That's what I came to ask you, see. I don't think she's hurt or anything, mind – I just need to speak to her."
Her heart still thumps but she manages to say, "Right now?"
"Sooner rather than later."
"I think you should explain."
David glances at the guard. "Please could we discuss that in private?"
It's a good thing she doesn't have Elsa's powers because she would definitely be creating ice now if she did.
"Fine," she says. "Sure. Um, come in, then."
"Your Highness-"
"It's fine," she tells the guard. "I trust Prince David's honour. This is important. And in case you've forgotten, I'm courting Kristoff, who's definitely better-looking than Dav… um, not that David is bad looking, he isn't, but, uh…" She coughs. "In fact, perhaps you could find my sister? Or send someone to find her?"
"The Queen?"
"How many sisters do you think I have?" She closes her eyes. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. David, either come in or tell me out here."
"Your High-"
"Find my sister and send her to my room. I don't care where she is or what she's doing, she's to come here. I promise that my virtue is going to be exactly the same by the time you get back."
The guard salutes and marches off. David looks stunned so she pulls him into the room. He's still motionless so she shoves him towards a chair. He sits and finally says, "I've never heard you talk like that."
She rubs her eyes. She hates ordering people around.
"What's going on?"
He tells her. Lady Angharad came to his rooms and said that Baron Lars had ended their courtship. He needs to find out why. He needs to speak to his father. And he needs to speak to Elsa.
What makes you so sure that Angharad and Lars will stay together?
Because I believe every story can have a happy ending.
When will she learn? When will she stop thinking that life is easy and happy? Why can't she make one decision about love that won't turn out wrong?
She doesn't know what she says. She thinks she tries to reassure David, or maybe he tries to reassure her, or maybe they reassure each other. But finally, there is a knock on the door and her sister's voice asks if she can come in. Anna yells for her to enter.
Elsa takes one look at David and Anna and says, "You know, then."
David nods. "Angharad came to me a few hours ago." He rubs his forehead. "Lars came to you?"
Elsa's lips are a thin line. "Sort of. Olaf found him crying in the main hall of the castle."
"Elsa, do you know why…"
She nods. "That's where I've been. It's Lars' father – a more bigoted man, I've never met. He's convinced Arendelle's blood is the purest there is and that Burakoem is a country of savages. I was tempted to lock him up for treason but while he made it clear he disapproved of me potentially marrying you, it was just an opinion." She sighs. Anna can see frost form in the air. Quietly, she stands and puts a hand on Elsa's shoulder, ignoring the slight flinch. Elsa relaxes slightly. "Anyway, he told Lars that Lars has to marry another noble called Myry – and if he continues his courtship of Angharad, he'll disown Lars and recall some loans. He has to court an Arendelle noble or no one at all. Lars can't afford it – a lot of his wealth was lent to him by his father. He's heartbroken," she adds softly. "He told me to apologise to you."
"If he's so heartbroken, why doesn't he just tell his father to stick it where the sun don't shine?"
Elsa turns her head to Anna. "It isn't that simple. His father is powerful at court and could ruin Lars' prospects. What would Lars and Angharad live on? Can you ask Lars to give up everything he has for a relationship that may never amount to anything?"
"But … I know! Couldn't you order his father not to disinherit Lars or recall his money?"
"No. The law is clear – Lars' father is entitled to disinherit anyone for whatever reason – it's his property. He can recall any loan if his contract allows him to. I could maybe stop him from actively harming Lars' prospects within the court – I could even try to give Lars a job to ensure he doesn't suffer much loss – but I can't prevent the nobles from listening to mutterings on my own. Lars would remain disinherited, with less wealth and at risk of other nobles cutting ties with him." Seeing Anna's expression, she says, "Anna, if I stop Lars' father from disinheriting Lars or from recalling any loans, it means I can ignore any law I want and take whatever property I want. I could change the law in future – and maybe I will – but that will take months. I can't break it now. How long before people rebel against a ruler like that?" She sighs. "Of everyone in Arendelle, I am the least able to break the law."
The torch light feels too bright and even though Anna knows the answer, she needs to solve this, so she says, "OK. But maybe David's father won't-"
"Anna, use your brain," Elsa snaps. "Lars' father has basically publically said that he doesn't want his son courting a woman because she's from Burakoem – and his son has capitulated. How would that not send a message to Burakoem suggesting we want nothing to do with them?"
It stings but she can feel Elsa shake under her hand so she puts her arms around her and lets her bury her face in Anna's shoulder. She is conscious, so very conscious, that David is standing there, watching them.
When Elsa is calm again, she steps back. "I'm sorry, Anna," she says. "It's just…" She turns and seemingly remembers David. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to suggest…"
David shakes his head. "It's fine. I know, Elsa." He looks away. "You don't want to marry me."
"David-"
"I'm not offended. I wouldn't want to marry me either." He tries, and fails, to smile. "I can be quite annoying, see."
"David, I…" She half reaches for him but seems to think better of it. "It's not that I don't … I don't know. I don't know what I want."
"I know. I'm not offended. I'd have preferred to have more time to get to know you." He glances at Anna, coughs and then says, "I like you, Elsa. You know that. But love is a big step up from liking someone, see, and marriage is a step up from that." He stands. "I'll need to send Einion to Burakoem tonight then. Tell my father what's happened. But … I think you should expect him to demand we marry." He walks to the door. "Tell Lars I don't blame him."
In the silence that follows, Anna turns to Elsa, who stands there, frozen. Anna reaches out again and Elsa jumps.
"Elsa-"
"I'm sorry, Anna," Elsa says. Her hands unconsciously move, blue light glowing around them. "I need to … I need to think."
She walks out of the room, a thunk noise echoing with the closing door. Anna looks down at her carpet. On the floor lies a small icy figure. Anna picks it up. It's a child, a few inches tall, who could be either male or female. Its arms are crossed in front of it, its head bowed. Its expression, under the bowed head, is sad. More than sad. Lost. Uncertain. Scared.
It's the second ice sculpture made by Elsa that Anna sees and, much like the first time, she has no idea what to say to it.
Christmas is the next day. Elsa only remembers when she receives a message around midday saying that Anna has been unable to finish the preparations for the festival due to illness. She has already arranged for Kai, Gerda and, surprisingly, Kristoff to represent the throne.
Elsa runs to Anna's room, where she sits, looking none the worse for wear.
"I … I heard you were ill," she says meekly, holding out the gift she had prepared, and had planned to leave outside Anna's room in the morning. "That's why you're not attending the party."
Anna doesn't smile. "I lied."
"What? Why?"
She shrugs and looks out of the window. "I didn't think anyone would want to go to a party today. I know it'll look selfish but I said you agreed to look after me after I begged. Because Kristoff can't be in here while I'm, uh, bedridden. I, uh, gave David flu as well, if you're interested. Fake flu anyway. I think he said he would deal with it manfully and sniffle under his sheets alone."
Anna spent weeks organising the festivities. She was looking forward to it.
When will Elsa stop doing this?
"Anna," Elsa begins. Even that one word is laden with guilt. "Anna, you didn't ha-"
"I did. It's fine, Elsa. There's always next year."
"Anna-"
"I know you've been ... preoccupied today. Tell everyone I was asleep and pop in every hour or so to check up on me."
Elsa knows a dismissal when she hears one. She leaves the gift on Anna's bed and walks to the door. "Merry Christmas, little sister."
She turns just in time to catch a smile on Anna's face. "Thanks, Elsa."
A few days later, David finds Elsa in the library. She doesn't look surprised to see him, nor does she look thrilled. Mostly, she looks tired. She's been wearing that look since the knocks on the doors.
Even tired, she looks pretty.
He glances at a bookshelf, determined not to speak until that thought is out of his head.
"Can I help?" Elsa says.
He smiles at her because she is someone who reacts well to smiles. "Hide me."
"What?"
"Llew and Tegwen are trying to get me drunk, see. If anyone asks, I was never here."
A smile is creeping onto her face and it makes her eyes sparkle. "What are you going to do if they come in here?"
"It's a library. They won't come anywhere near it."
She laughs now, fingers to lips, and he feels some of the tension leave him. It's hard to tell how Elsa will react to something. She switches through extreme emotions – sometimes melancholy, sometimes laughing – and sometimes, a perfectly innocent sentence will trigger something in her. She'll shut down and bringing her back to the light is like coaxing a very reluctant cat from behind a seat. It's something to do with her childhood – it must be, because, sometimes, Anna will shut down at the same sentences.
He's known Elsa for months but he doesn't know exactly what happened to her. She told him that she and Anna grew up apart – that's why she wanted to reconcile with her – and she told him that this was to give Elsa time to control her powers. But there must be something more to it. No one is as scared of feeling as Elsa is without something happening to make them that way. No one is as scared of not feeling as Anna is without witnessing something to make that happen.
If they marry, will he find out?
"If they do, duck under the table," Elsa says. David blinks before realising that she's referring to Llew and Tegwen. "I'll say you went the other way."
He smiles. "Thanks, Elsa." He sits down next to her. Not too close, but close enough that he can see what she's working on. He can't read Common as well as he can speak it and after a few seconds, he gives up. Standing up, he walks over to the books, picks up the familiar song book and returns to his seat to read it. At first, he hopes that she will say something, but she doesn't and he doesn't want to disturb her more than he has so he reads. Although he starts off feeling very conscious that she is sitting so close to him, soon enough, he's engrossed in the music.
About an hour later, Elsa says, "David? Sorry, stupid question but what do you call it when you have to buy something at a certain price at a certain time? It's not an option agreement. My mind's gone blank."
"Gynideb yn dyfiden," David says absently, flicking over the page.
"Sorry, what?"
He blinks and looks up properly. "Um. It translates literally to contract in future. Does that help?"
"A future! Thanks."
"You're welcome."
They return to their individual papers. For a few minutes, he glances up every few seconds, wondering if she will speak to him again, but she's engrossed once more. So he borrows one of her sheets and pens and begins to write out musical notation.
He only realises he's humming the song when Elsa joins in, her soprano entwining with his tenor. It isn't the voice that surprises him so much as the fact that he knows Elsa is apathetic towards music. He's never heard her sing or hum before. She seems to notice at the same time he does because when he looks up, she stops, her face bright red.
"Don't laugh," she says.
"I wasn't going to."
She smiles. "Sorry. I wasn't even paying attention."
"That's fine. I thought maybe I was distracting you, mind. Maybe I should leave you to work." He pauses. "Or maybe you should go to bed and sleep as well. It must be nearly midnight." When she opens her mouth, he adds, "If Arendelle falls apart because you went to sleep, you can tell everyone it was my fault. I'll blame Llew for it, mind, just because I can, but you can still say it."
"You're as bad as Anna," she grumbles but she begins to gather her work together. She's happily sleepy. He likes Elsa when she's like this. Before he knows what he's doing, he holds his hand out to help her stand up.
She looks at the hand for a few long seconds and then, gently, accepts it.
If he were a suave man, or a boisterous man, or Llew, he would use the opportunity to pull Elsa towards him. He would hold her and see if he could sneak a kiss from her, just to prove he can. But he is not a suave man, a boisterous man, and he's definitely not Llew (thankfully), so once Elsa is standing, he drops the hand. The grateful look in Elsa's eyes both hurts and feels better than a stolen kiss would have done.
"You know," she murmurs as they head to the door, "that was nice. Comfortable."
He nearly reminds her then that she said that if they married, they might not be miserable. It took him weeks to convince her that they could at least be a pair of married friends and nothing else, and the fact that she seems to have forgotten this stings. But if he says that, she'll think she's done something wrong and it is his father who is going to make them marry. It's not fair to her.
So all he says is, "It was."
"If … if you ever want to hide from them again, you know where to find me," she says. When he looks at her, she smiles shyly.
He smiles back. "Thanks, Elsa."
He joins her in the library a few more times. At first, she finds his presence weird, and even a little annoying, but she gets used to it soon enough. He's quiet enough, and sometimes he makes jokes that lighten the mood. The first few minutes are always awkward but after that … it's pleasant. Mostly.
One evening, Anna asks her if she prefers working alone. It's a completely innocent question but Elsa manages to stutter before eventually getting out a yes. Anna doesn't push it and Elsa's glad because, somehow, this doesn't feel like a yes or no question anymore.
They are travelling through the forest when Kristoff says, "Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"
"Wrong? What do you mean what's wrong? Nothing's wrong. It's fine. I'm fine. I'm … giving myself away, aren't I?"
"Like a reindeer in a party."
"You know that's not a thing, right?"
"That was the point."
"No, I mean using that as a saying. It's just … not."
She can feel him smile even as she doesn't look at him. "You're changing the topic."
"Is it working?"
"No."
She looks at him now and although he still smiles, she can see the hurt in his eyes. After everything they've been through, she should trust him. And she does. But Elsa…
He sees her looking. "It's to do with that secret business with Elsa, isn't it?" The words are bland but she can almost see the awkward man who felt the need to bow to her sister.
"Yeah," she says. "It's…" She can't say. She can't tell Kristoff Elsa's deepest secrets and worries. But she can't keep leaving him out. She bites her lip. "It's… Kristoff, have you ever tried to save someone and ... and it hasn't worked?"
He turns to her again, face contorted in confusion. "What do you mean? You did save her."
"I saved her from dying," Anna says, "but I didn't save her. I was supposed to. I was supposed to solve it."
He stops the sled. When Sven looks behind, Kristoff says something about this being important. That's enough for Sven. Kristoff looks at Anna.
"What do you mean?"
"I … Elsa's doing something. To save me. You. Everyone. I … I tried to save her and I thought I had but then … it's not going to work. I don't know what I can do. There's too much going on and-"
His arm is around her, pulling her to his broad chest. "No one can do everything. Not even you, carrot-top."
She doesn't smile at the nickname. "I don't want to do everything. But I can't let her do this."
"Marry Prince David?"
"Um … no…"
"Anna."
Anna looks away. "How'd you guess?"
"You three were much happier when Angharad and Lars were courting. Since they broke up, you've all been gloomy. I'm not stupid. It was obviously something to do with that."
"Kristoff, you can't tell anyone."
Kristoff snorts. "Sure. Like anyone pays attention to me anyway."
"I do."
He smiles. "I know." He kisses her forehead. "Lemme guess. You came up with some way to stop them marrying that depended on Angharad and Lars. And now…"
"They're probably going to have to marry. And I can't stop it." She bites her lip again, nearly drawing blood. "Why can't I think of something? I have to. There's always something or someone that makes a happy ending. Why…"
"Anna, life isn't a story," Kristoff says softly. "It doesn't have happy endings or sad endings. Just events that follow, one after the other, where the only thing that determines how happy or sad they are is how you deal with them."
"But-"
"If every event was a story, my parents wouldn't have left me in the ice cutter village on my own. And the ice cutters wouldn't have forgotten me by the fjord, leaving me to be rescued by the trolls when I was a kid."
Not once, not once since she first met him, has she asked how he came to be brought up by trolls. But when she looks at him, she knows he doesn't want pity, or questions.
"Kristoff." She sighs. "I know. But I can't let her do this, you know? I should be able to save her."
"Anna … I'm not saying give up but there's only so much you can do."
"Not when it comes to Elsa," Anna says. "Never again."
After New Year, on the day before Einion the messenger is due to return to Arendelle, she knocks on David's door. She's spent much of the day wondering whether she should do this. In times before, they have always met by agreement or David has sought her out. More so since she told him he would be welcome to spend his evenings hiding from his courtiers with her. But now … maybe this is something she needs to get used to. Someone she needs to get used to, past occasional evenings working in the library.
In the seconds after her skin touches wood, she hopes that he is not in. Then the door opens and he is there, surprise plain upon his face.
"Hi," she says, as though she knocks on his door every day. "Can I come in?"
His eyes widen. "Is that a good idea?"
Of course it isn't. None of Elsa's ideas are ever good.
"I think we need to talk."
"So I shouldn't leave the door open then?"
"We're not children, David."
"No," he says, his voice almost inaudible, "but people do expect you to … uhm." He coughs. "Not that I'm suggesting that's why you want to come in, mind, but … other people might think…"
"Yes," Elsa says as dryly as she can. "God forbid I have sex before I marry. It could be the worst thing I ever do. Almost as bad as freezing an entire country. Oh, wait."
He frowns but lets her in. She can't look at him. He's just looking out for her reputation and she answered with anger.
Go away, Anna.
She's done that before.
As the door clicks closed behind her, she can feel her heart hammering in her chest. She sits and watches him. Even now – even after all these months, even with the time she bought herself – she doesn't know how she feels.
That's not true. She knows how she feels. She just doesn't know if she feels what she should be feeling or whether she's broken. She likes him. She likes spending time with him. She likes his silly sense of humour and the way he doesn't push at topics. She likes how he is kind and polite to everyone but shies back when he's uncertain. She likes the intelligence in his eyes; the way he isn't loud and certain; that he loves dancing and music but hates maths and the histories. And she does like how he looks. He's not conventionally handsome but it suits him. If he were handsome, that would ruin his personality somehow.
But she thinks it should be more. If she loved him – if she could love him – shouldn't she think about him more than she does? Shouldn't his presence make her feel alive? Shouldn't she look at him and want to touch him? Shouldn't she not find the first few minutes of his sitting in a library somewhat annoying?
She doesn't feel like that about anyone. But maybe she isn't letting herself feel like that. After all, she's looking at his lips now and when she thinks about the kisses they've shared, she finds herself wondering whether another kiss would answer her questions. That must mean something, right?
Her hands fist in her dress.
"So," she says before nerves can overcome her further, "if your father says we have to marry. He said within four months." She licks her lips. "What do we tell everyone?"
"That we fell in love."
She frowns. "You want this to be a love story?"
He shrugs, even though his shoulders are slumped. "It's what they'd want, see. It's what they'd believe. Either that or we tell everyone we want to seal the relationship between Burakoem and Arendelle. But that makes it sound like there was a problem then."
She nods. "I suppose we could let it be a love story," she says slowly, not looking at him. "And … you'd be royal consort. King. How … how much power do you expect to have?"
"How much power would you be willing to give me?"
But there's another question behind that: how much does Elsa trust him?
"We could take it as it goes, I suppose," she says, ignoring the part of her that screams coward. "Although the post of dancing master is always open."
He smiles and so does she but the tension is still there.
"Elsa," he says, "I think we've talked about some of this before."
He's still smarting from her irritated response at the door but even now, he doesn't seem able to say something that might hurt someone. She can't blame him for the rebuke, hidden though it is. She knows what she wants to ask but how can she put it into words? How can she ask him what being married to him would be like when he can't possibly know that himself?
"Children," she says instead and wishes she hadn't. He looks startled and she can feel her cheeks begin to blush. "I mean the succession."
"You mean would we be trying to have children," he says.
She looks down. "Yes."
There's a pause and then he says, "I don't think that's what you mean." She looks up. His face is also beginning to turn red. "I think you mean … well. Whether I would expect you to…"
Didn't she say they aren't children? Children could probably handle a conversation like this better than her. She needs Anna. Anna would be able to look David straight in the eye and have this conversation without mumbling once. Although Anna's currently upset about an argument with Kristoff earlier that day so Elsa wouldn't have made her come even if it would have been appropriate.
"I'm sorry," she says. "It was stupid of me to ask. Of course we would … be attempting to have children."
He told her once that she isn't broken. Maybe that's true and maybe that isn't but no matter what he says, she knows that people like her don't have children. She can't say that though. Not aloud. Not now.
"OK, this has to be the weirdest euphemism I've ever heard for it."
She shouldn't be distracted but she can't help saying, "Really? Gerda always called it cleaning carpets together."
"Great. Tell her I said thanks now that I'll never be able to look at a carpet in the same way again."
They catch each other's eye and, suddenly, burst out laughing.
"You see," he says through his laughter, "that's the answer. It'll never happen. I'll be too busy trying to walk through the castle without seeing carpets."
Which only makes her laugh even more. He grins at her laughter. If she let him, they'd continue to trade jokes. It would be easy. So easy.
"But wouldn't we need to have children?" she says.
The humour leaves his face completely. "That's not a good reason." Before she can open her mouth, he says, "Elsa, do you think I'd enjoy it if you weren't? If you were only saying yes because you felt you had to?"
"Some men would," she says quietly.
"Aye, and some men would rape, pillage and murder to their heart's content. Other men, mind, they'd die before they came close to doing anything like that."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
He shrugs. "It … it's fine. Just … don't think…"
"I'm sorry," she says again, feeling the ice pushing at her fingertips. "I … I'm just so confused and…" She bites her lip. "I'm scared."
She hasn't said that since she told her parents not to touch her.
He stands up and starts to walk forwards, hand out, but stops when he sees her expression. "I think everyone's scared about these things," he says instead, hand falling to his side.
"But everyone else just knows. Anna's never doubted … anything."
He is quiet for a long time. Then he says, "I don't."
"You don't?"
"I mean, I know I'm attracted to women." He pauses. His eyes are nervous enough that she feels some of the anxiety melt away. "So I know that, see, but it doesn't mean I know what to do next."
He's said before that he thinks he feels something when kissing her but that he wasn't sure it was as strong as it should be. Does that mean he knows? "What do you mean?"
He rubs his forehead. "I mean, it's one of those things, see. Am I attracted to someone or just parts of them? Or if I'm attracted to them, could I love them? I don't know that, see." He coughs. "I mean, truth is, Elsa, I'm not…" He pauses. "OK, maybe this way then. You've never been courted before these last few months?" She nods because he knows that. He smiles shakily. "Same here. So, right now, the only advantage I have over you, see, is that I know I'm attracted to women."
If she were a brave woman, or a loud woman, or Anna, she would ask which women he's attracted to – or, more specifically, if he's talking about her. She would laugh and say that they could find out together. But she isn't brave, or loud, and she's definitely not Anna, so she says, "So if neither of us knows what's going on…"
"Then we'll continue having awkward conversations for years to come."
She smiles at that. Seeing her smile, he smiles too.
"I just wish I knew," she says with a sigh. "How am I supposed to know if I'm attracted to you or to anyone?"
"Do you look at anyone and think about touching them? Kissing them? Holding them? Um, cleaning carpets together?"
"You're always going to call it that now, aren't you?"
He grins. "Damn right I am."
She smiles before returning to his question. "I … I don't know. I think about thinking about it. But I've spent most of my life thinking about feeling and thinking things."
He nods wisely and says, "I have no idea what that means then."
She scowls. "That's it?"
He shrugs helplessly. "I think this is something you have to decide for yourself, see."
"But you can help me," she says and puts her hands to her lips at the brazenness of what she's just said. His eyes are wide and, for a moment, she thinks she should tell him to ignore it. But something inside her refuses to budge.
Slowly, he walks over, a question in his eyes. She hesitates before nodding slightly. He bends down and softly places his lips on hers. She stands, putting her hands on his shoulders to brace herself. He opens his mouth slightly as his arms wind around her back, holding her to his chest, so she opens hers as well. She closes her eyes because last time, she didn't know if she should and she decides it's probably better to pick one option and stick with it.
At first she only feels uncomfortable and she can't feel that. Maybe it doesn't feel bad either but she has to be careful. In control. She can't let him know.
His tongue sweeps gently across her lower lip, unaware that she is fighting both to feel and not to feel, as one hand moves down her back. She manages not to squirm. She moves her hands down his back because she's seen people do that when they kiss. His fingers tighten around her and she can't help feeling a little pleased that she got a reaction out of him.
Pleased. That's a feeling. And isn't the whole point of this to feel?
She forces herself to relax and is surprised to realise that actually, it feels … OK. Even when he sucks at her lip, one hand now caught in her hair, she thinks that there's something nice about it. About being this close to someone, about feeling their warmth, about moving her lips and hands and feeling a reaction.
But she also thinks that if this is desire, shouldn't her thoughts be a lot less rational than they are right now? Although her skin is hot under her dress where his hands touch her. When she tries to reciprocate his movement, he gasps and she feels something warm inside her and since when is heat a pleasant feeling anyway?
Finally, they break apart. His lips look a little swollen and she supposes hers must be as well.
"So, um, anything?" he says, his voice cracking on the last syllable.
She hesitates. "I think maybe I am overthinking it."
She can see the disappointment in his eyes and wants to add but it felt warm and I liked it but then she might have to explain what she means and she isn't sure if she liked it generally or if she liked the touch or what it all means.
"I guess," he says, "you're going into this trying to find an answer. That can't help." He hesitates. "You haven't tried kissing anyone else, have you?"
He looks at her and his eyes are ... scared?
She shakes her head, trying not to think about his eyes. "It's not exactly easy for the Queen of Arendelle to go around kissing people."
He hesitates and then says, "I've said it before but if we do get married … it's not the end of the world. I know two nobles in Burakoem, see, who married to stop their families trying to pick partners for them. They're happy together and I've never seen them so much as touch. The man, see, he told me that it was like living with a friend. They attend events together, they talk to each other, they follow hobbies together, and they're happy enough to do that."
She stands up. "I … I should go. I need to think. But, David, thank you. For listening and for … for being you."
He chuckles at that. "I try."
Einion the messenger returns and hands Elsa a scroll. She reads it with David because she doesn't want to have to tell him what it says.
They are both silent for several minutes after they finish reading, neither of them looking away from the scroll, pretending that the other is a slower reader than they are. The silence is almost deafening.
After too much time has passed for them to legitimately pretend they're still reading the scroll, David says, "I'm sorry."
Elsa only says, "I am too."
Outside the window, the sky passes from twilight to darkness. Anna asks a guard where her sister is, she's late for their dinner, but she still doesn't move.
Her hand is on the table and David places his hand near hers. When she looks at him, his hand twitches, as though seeking hers, but he says nothing. She, for her part, doesn't comment on the abject misery on his face.
And finally, finally, Elsa says, "You know, this is the least romantic marriage proposition I ever imagined. I always thought … I don't know, it would be a little grander."
David smiles, although it fights with that abject misery. "Next time my father tells us we have to marry then, I'll make sure he does it with a room full of daffodils."
Elsa has never missed their dinner without warning Anna. The moment Anna hears the knock on her door and opens it, she wants to shout at her sister. But as soon as she opens her mouth, she sees that Elsa's arms are wrapped around herself, her eyes are wide and she wears that expression that's close to the haunted one she sometimes has when she looks at Anna. So, instead, Anna puts one arm around Elsa's shoulder, puts her other hand on Elsa's arm and gently leads her into her room. They sit on Anna's bed.
"What's wrong?" Anna asks though she already knows. Outside painful conversations with Anna, she has only seen Elsa act this way a few times. And each time, it was related to one person.
So she isn't surprised when Elsa says, in a voice so monotonous that she can only guess how much it hurts, "David and I are to be married within four months."
Anna nearly says I'm sorry but that's not what you're supposed to say to someone who's just gotten engaged, even if it's true. Congratulations is definitely out here.
"We still have four months. We'll get out of this."
Which makes Elsa smile for a second but she doesn't say anything else.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Anna says after a while. Then, when Elsa has said nothing for long enough, Anna says, "Have you eaten? I bet you haven't. I bet you sat there and… We should get you something to eat."
Elsa smiles at her sadly. "You're so grown up these days. I know I've said it before but … I feel like I missed it."
"You didn't," Anna says. "I don't think I grew up till you… till the coronation." She pauses. "If I grew up. I don't feel like I did. I feel like I'm the same as always."
"You aren't."
She nearly says, how would you know, but that's old anger which should have left long ago. She hesitates. "Elsa. What … I know it's only been a few months but is there another reason you don't want to marry David?"
Elsa looks away. But she once promised to answer any question Anna asked and this isn't a question she can ignore. Anna knows that Elsa will answer it.
And she does. Quietly. Tentatively. But she answers. It's what Anna suspected. Elsa's fear – that she has only discussed a few times – that she will never feel attracted to another person.
Elsa often tells Anna that she shouldn't hate their parents. Sometimes, she feels herself relent but then something like this reminds her why she hates them. Anna has to watch her sister enter into a betrothal while wondering if she can feel attraction or whether she's repressed her feelings too far. Anna has to have conversations with Elsa where Elsa claims that all she needs is something close to happy to get by because she doesn't think happiness is possible for her. Anna has to smile and hug and hold her and pretend everything's fine because Elsa is convinced everything is her fault. And it isn't. It's their parents.
There has to be something she can do. Maybe she can't stop Elsa getting married – not tonight – but maybe she can deal with this. Maybe she can help Elsa. Maybe Elsa can meet someone and they can save the day. There's always something.
"Let's go out."
Elsa looks up. "What?"
"Let's go out. Into the city. In disguises."
"Anna, what-"
"C'mon, it'll be fun."
Elsa isn't as convinced. For a few minutes, Anna tries to convince her: she points out that Elsa rarely gets to relax; that she should see the people; that this might be a way for her to find out who she likes, or if she likes; that she needs something to take her mind off tonight. Elsa often does what she thinks is proper but sometimes, she'll bend the rules. Anna still doesn't know when those times are or why.
"Anna-" Elsa sighs. "Let's say I go out there and I meet the man or woman of my dreams – lacking though they seem to be. So what? I still have to marry David. I'm still Queen. What would it change? What would I get out of it?"
Anna looks at Elsa carefully before saying, "You."
